May 20, Water Rats Club Race
Finally, a good day for some evening club sailing. The wind stayed in the 9 to 12 knot range from the NW, giving us something hard enough to hike against and shifty enough to play with.
And we got the numbers out, too. Of the six races sailed, four had at least 13 boats finishing.
When I saw Ken Walton's station wagon pull into the lot, I knew it was time to learn the lesson I had be harping to myself about since the mid-winters; Don't be intimidated by the competition. Walton's good, and there is an expectation in my head that, when he shows up, it's pretty well a done deal that he is going to be at the front. Even when he is pushed back as a result of a bad start, he is going to pass you and win.
But I had the Icebreaker weekend result to bolster me. There, I was competitive in heavy air against another very intimidating presence when he shows up at the Rat, Morten Fogh. But for an OCS I had to count, my finishes at the Icebreaker were actually better that Morten's and I felt I sailed at least as well.
So, first race. I look for Ken and see him at the boat. I tack under him and wait for the gun. We break from the pack, and he tacks to port. That was my moment. Would I tack too, and drag race him-go toe-to-toe? Would I keep going and hope to catch a shift? I tacked, and stuck to his hip. We tacked back to starboard, and then to port (the port tack was longer), and then gutted it to the starboard tack layline. I rounded ahead of him, but was still unsure if I could hold him on the downwinds. On the reaches, I fought with those thoughts about me being out of place-that I was in Ken's place and that I really should make a mistake or something so the universe would return to its rightful order. At the gybe mark, I rounded ahead. At the leeward mark I rounded ahead. After the round, I held on port, and Ken tacked. I tacked to cover, but then tacked back to port on a shift while Ken kept going on starboard. Ahh, the universe. Ken picked up some nice breeze, and that was it. Ken 1, me 2. I had almost done it, but still not quite.
Race 2. Leeward favored start. Last year, Ken smoked me three times on a pin start on the only evening he showed up to race. It was time to excise that day. He was luffing on starboard and I tacked to park above him, but then I noticed he was leaving too much room to the pin for the timing, so I quickly ducked his transom, and before he could react, I was below him and luffing him to the line. At the gun, I was perfect pin start. Again we crossed the fleet, and drag raced to the starboard layline. Again I rounded ahead, but this time, I covered, and won.
The universe was shifting.
Race 3. Pin start again, with me again at the pin. But this time Ken rolls me, so I luff, and duck his transom to tack to port. It's yet another drag race on port for everyone, and Ken holds on starboard too long, and becomes buried behind a couple of boats on the long port tack. At the top mark, Joe Van pops up from nowhere to grab the lead with me behind him. Joe is always fast downwind, and I know I have my hands full. He does what he does best, and I can't stop him from beating me across the finish line. Ken is third, but he is OCS, and so suddenly, the pillar of fear I had erected in my head is starting to come down, and there is a new world order on the horizon.
Race 4. A couple of other guys come into the mix. Ken is first, Richard Secord and Tobin Young round the top mark ahead of me and it looks like I can do no better than fourth. Ken wins, I steal a third, and Richard Roberts comes up from the pack to pick up the fourth. That's not good, but by now, my issues with intimidation are well buried beneath other considerations. I needed to battle everyone, not just Ken. I was discovering the other decisions-the ones that are made on the other side of intimidation. They were demanding my attention, and were a lot more fun to dwell on. Thought Ken was winning the day, I was past the need to give him his comfortable spot. I was past worrying about him exclusively. I was past my fear and just racing. And if Walton was going to win another race, I was going to make sure he earned it.
Race 5. I am OCS, and have to go back. The universe is reasserting itself, you say, but no, it's just an OCS, and Ken is just another racer, and I realize I am in it for the long haul. I work my way back to 9th, and oddly, that okay with me.
Race 6. I am emotionally drained, but the RC wants one more race. I whine, but stay out, while a bunch head home. Ken rounds the top mark ahead of me, but I catch him on the second reach with a nice move to the inside just before the lee mark. When we round up, I look back and Ken is looking into his boat, sorting out a tangled mainsheet. He is just another guy on the course and I go on to win.